The Road Trip of Epic Proportions
by Toraptor
Summary: Laxus and the Raijinshuu take a road trip. It ends up taking them around the ocean and to the continent of Thedas. [This is just Fraxus dancing in the Haven tavern, really.]


**notes: I was in a writing funk for awhile and this was the result. I love Fraxus and I love The Dragon Age Setting so. Here this is. Marked as a oneshot, though I may add drabbles in the future if I feel like it. **

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**The Road Trip of Epic Proportions**

Haven was nice, the beer was nicer, the minstrel tempting the most proper of people to dance their hearts out was the nicest.

The trip across the ocean had tested the limits of Laxus' strength, but he begrudgingly couldn't regret arriving on the shores of Thedas. He had no shortage of curiosities to thoroughly explore. The scenery was a change of pace, and quite beautiful. There were mountains upon mountains of books for study.

Laxus didn't care about the books too much, but they brought a soft, unguarded smile to Freed's face that only ever happened when he was lost in a world in his head. Out of the risk of resembling Gajeel when Levy was caught up in research, wilting in a corner of the library with a pout of his face, Laxus sought out other things to occupy himself with in the downtime.

There were bandit raids. Thieves. A giant, swirling hole in the sky that had sent demons spewing forth and burned their house down at midnight.

Jumping into battle to aid the flailing soldiers, struggling desperately to keep up with the waves of demons, was second nature. Laxus hadn't expected a thank you from anyone, but the cries of horror and frantic demands that he stand down and surrender to the authorities were an unpleasant surprise. The no-nonsense dwarf, Varric Tethras, had called them out on their flawed priorities, and everything smoothed itself out. It helped that the "Herald of Andraste," whoever that was, was a mage.

After a long week of fighting, the tavern was a nice change of pace. Between the free flowing alcohol, music, and company, Laxus was looking to actually get laid tonight.

Freed danced with Evergreen, who spun from partner to partner, only to circle around back to Freed. Bickslow was very much in the same loop, whirling Freed and Evergreen away from grasping fingers. That was well and good—Laxus would not have been so merciful.

"It is not often we find ourselves lucky enough to look upon joy of such caliber."

The words came from a demure elf, swathed in gray and green, a wolf jaw hanging from his neck. He was bald, eyes sharp and blue.

"I do not believe we've met," said the elf. "I am Solas."

Laxus grunted his name out to Solas in introduction.

"Well met, then," said Solas.

They stood in silence. Laxus shifted against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked to Freed for a distraction now, rather than being distracted by Freed. There was a big difference between those two states of distraction.

"You should dance," said Solas.

Laxus gave him a startled look, a sharp comment already on the tip of his tongue. It died away, Freed's ringing laughter rising above the heads of the dancers, wiping away all rational thought. He stared unabashedly at Freed, complete at ease in his surroundings.

With a great deal of effort and control, Laxus tore his eyes away from Freed, to glare at Solas.

"Who are you again?"

Instead of taking offense, Solas gave the faintest of smiles. It rang bitter, as though he smiled around a ruined memory. Laxus knew the feeling.

"We, all of us, should take joy where we can," he murmured softly. "This world is rife with conflict and chaos that echoes down into the deepest recesses of the Fade. One never knows when life will uproot itself and turn on its head."

"Huh. Sounds like you're speaking from experience, there."

"Perhaps I am," said Solas. "Does it make a difference? He is waiting."

Laxus looked back out at the crowd of dancers, to catch Freed's eyes. He beamed, waving in greeting, but didn't wave Laxus over to dance. He knew better than to expect many public displays of affection from Laxus—or even to hold hands in the streets.

It wasn't that Laxus was ashamed, or even embarrassed, of his relationship with Freed. He could care less what people thought of them, but attention was annoying. Attention was very annoying—and there was nothing the media press had loved more than to get into the nitty-gritty details of mage guild relationships. The juicy gossip was the bread and butter of the Wizard Weekly.

They weren't in Fiore, though. They weren't even in Earthland, as they'd come to call the continent they originated from. There were no noisy interviewers pushing microphones into his face in Haven's tavern.

Laxus uncrossed his arms, pushing his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. He brushed invisible dirt off the front, straightening his back, rising to his full and imposing height. One thing that hadn't changed was the fact he was a good head—or two—taller than most people. The only competitor was that Qunari fellow, Iron Bull.

He slowed by the table, when Solas reclined into a seat, to offer a quiet, "Thank you."

There was a moment, before he was swept by familiar, calloused hands and a warm smile, that he saw a flash of surprise on Solas's face. After that, he was lost in a blur of movement, his hands full of soft leather, long hair brushing against his knuckles.

"I think they're taken with you," said Freed smugly. "They've never seen a dragon-slayer before, let alone one of your power."

Laxus let his hand drag down Freed's arm, clasped his hand in a feather-light grip, twirled him—and then brought him back chest-to-chest.

"I don't think that's what they're worried about," he said, speaking almost directly into Freed's mouth, putting on a show—because Freed was right. The crowd was taken by them. If he leaned just a little closer, he could feel the brush of lips.

Freed had gone pink, only exacerbated when Laxus spun him around again.

"We don't need to dominate the room," he yelped in surprise, as Laxus lifted him.

"Yes, we do!" said Laxus, laughing uproariously with a freedom that was given to him by alcohol and distance.

"Laxus—!"

Freed broke off with a startled laugh, finally catching his footing. Then, it was a battle of lead. Freed slipped up, and Laxus took the lead. Laxus stumbled, and it was Freed's turn. They switched back and forth until Laxus was dizzy and the room was uncomfortably hot. There wasn't much room to operate and, at one point, he'd whirled Freed over a table.

Once they finished, breathing heavily, leaning into each other, the crowd started clapping. There were more observers than dancers at that point. A few random passersby had stopped to look through the window.

"I think that did the trick," said Laxus quietly, resting his forehead against Freed's, rubbing circles with his thumbs into Freed's hips. It was nice to let go.

"If your intention was to get the attention of all Thedas," said Freed, smiling wryly as Laxus' face fell, "then you've succeeded. Thoroughly."

Laxus cast a wary eye at the awed crowd. It couldn't snowball that badly. There was no way.

A pipsqueak elf with nut-brown skin and curly red hair burst out of the crowd.

"Please, teach me!"


End file.
